


Transparencies

by grumblebee



Category: Turn (TV 2014)
Genre: Humiliation, M/M, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Public indecency, only one naked, washington harem implied
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-15
Updated: 2016-08-15
Packaged: 2018-08-09 00:34:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7779994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grumblebee/pseuds/grumblebee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ben finds that daily duties cannot be ignored, uniform or not.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Transparencies

“Tallmadge, you look a frightful mess.”

Ben shifted uneasily in his mud caked boots, studying the ungodly state of his uniform. Torn up stockings, fringes tangled and torn, blood and dirt smeared liberally up and down--- he looked as if he'd been to hell and back, a sentiment mirror on Hamilton and Lafayette’s faces.

“My apologies. I can tidy up and adjourn with you later--”

“Nonsense, Major. We need your help now. Our dear Alexander figured you’d be in need of a hot bath. We had a basin brought in.”

Ben’s muscles ached, the thought of sinking into a hot bath tempted him, but it was too indulgent. He felt ashamed of the special treatment, no matter how close to Washington’s inner circle he was. Hamilton picked up on his hesitation.

“It's a luxury, you know. Hurry up and indulge before it turns cold. I know fifty men who would kill you where you stand to get in that basin, and a hundred who would do so knowing you wasted it.”

Ben mumbled a few thanks, and hurried behind the makeshift curtain they had set up. A basin was an understatement. This was practically a tin tub. Large and full of warmth, steaming delightfully. It must have just been prepared. Like they knew Ben had just arrived back at camp.

He stripped quickly , discarding his soiled uniform on a chair just beyond the curtain. Then, he melted into the bath. Aches and pains dissipated as he slid deeper and deeper into the basin, until his whole being was nothing more than soft tender flesh. Ben undid the ribbon in his hair, allowing it to float on the water’s surface before sinking entirely into the tub. Warmth from the top of his head to the tips of his toes---blissful.

Despite the urge to stay in the bath forever, Ben resurfaces, wasting no time to scrub off the filth of the day. It's the rare opportunity he has to feel completely fresh and anew, and stepping out of the bath he feels like a changed man. Quick fingers wrap the ribbon back in his hair, securing the wet strands in a lazy plait. One chance look around, however, turns Ben’s pleasant outlook.

‘ _My uniform’_

The chair he had piled high was bare, with not even a linen to dry with. No clean uniform, no nightshirt. Ben’s mind raced as he mulled over the possibilities. Hamilton and Lafayette were not modest. They had seen him bare many times, and have bared themselves to him as well. It was not entirely foreign for them to do this as a way to tease him; poke fun at his modesty until they succumbed to some greater desire.

The thought made Ben’s cock twitch. Stepping out from behind this curtain, plain and bare---eyes on him. This had Hamilton written all over it. Though the bath was most likely Lafayette’s work; anything that would guilt Ben into indulging himself was his craft.

“Tallmadge, are you finished? We need those perceptive eyes of yours.”

Ben shivered with excitement. He pulled back the curtain, anticipating the probing stares of his two comrades. Instead he was greeted with...nothing.  
Hamilton’s cheek was in his hand, eyes fixed on the paper in front of him. Lafayette, lusty as he was, couldn't spare a passing glance.

Disappointment dropped into the pit of Ben’s stomach. He took a seat between the two, feeling awkward and uncomfortable. Would no one say anything? Him sitting here, without a stitch on him, with not a single word between them.

“Did you already write up your observational report?” Those were Hamilton’s first words. Ben squirmed, crossing his legs over.

“N-no, I haven't”

Lafayette tutted, passing him ink and paper. “Here, dear Major. Do not let us distract you from your work.”

Ben balked. Distract _him_? He was the one out of place. He was the one who should be apologizing for his state of undress. Color stained his cheeks as he took up his pen with a trembling hand. His cursive was sloppy, all the words jumbled together as he struggled to focus on his report, and not his current situation. The creeping sense of arousal clouded his mind.

‘ _Won't somebody say anything?_ ’

Ben desperately wished for this torment to end. That Hamilton would run his hand up his thigh, as he'd done under the table at many a meeting. Brushing his leg up against Hamilton did nothing, the man didn't even move his chair away. Ben even uncrossed his legs, spreading them in a way he knew would tempt Lafayette to press the toe of his boot into his aching cock. Still, no response. He touched his knees together, silently embarrassed at his wanton display.

Hamilton was still neatly scribbling his report, only stopping to sip his wine. In their silence Ben found a looming sense of anticipation. This was only the appetizer, and Ben would soon have to endure the main course of this mockery. He watched silently as Hamilton folded the parchment into a small packet.

“His Excellency needs this immediately. Tallmadge?”

Ben stared hopelessly at the report in his outstretched hand. _Surely_ he didn't mean for him to run across camp in the dead of night like this. Yet Hamilton’s command didn't waver. Ben swallowed thickly, pushing out his chair to stand on trembling legs. This was a jest; they could not wish for him to complete this task. Their silence had been torturous enough-- and Ben prayed this was where they would laugh, pat him on the back, and take care of the aching need they had placed on him. He stood at the flaps of the tent, wracked with hesitation.

“Do not make him wait, Major. His Excellency praises your prompt performance.”

Ben flushed at the notion. ‘ _Is he in on this too?_ ’ If so, it only fueled Ben’s desire to step out of the tent. Uniform or not, he was expected to arrive at that tent. Calling their bluff, Ben stepped cautiously out into the crisp fall night. There was no reaction from within the tent. He was invisible.

The quickest, most discrete route was through the tree line-- which Ben braved barefoot, raking over exposed roots and scraggly rocks. The sight of Washington’s tent, lit up with the warm glow of candlelight, was a godsend. The absence of his guards even more promising. He had to take a deep breath before pushing open the flaps of the tent, standing at perfect attention.

Washington sat at his desk, writing. Dread surged through Ben, fearing that he too would ignore what is so plain in front of him. His heart pounded as Washington lifted his eyes from the page.

“Dear Benjamin, it seems you've forgotten something.”

Ben throbbed from the sheer pleasure of it all. He was acknowledged--- _seen_. He felt those hungry eyes all over him, bringing forth the innate shame his modesty inflicted on him, sending his mind spiraling as his hands flew to cover his glaring nakedness.

“They've taken my uniform, sir”

He was breathless, strung out from the treatment Hamilton and Lafayette made him endure. Washington’s lips curled into a smile, one hand beckoning him closer. Ben obliged, grateful to be addressed.

Washington grabbed for the packet twisted in Ben’s fist. “First, business. Then we deal with your... _situation_ ”. Ben shifted excitedly, his cock rubbing hard up against the hands he shielded himself with. A few wordless minutes passed as the report was picked over.

“Dear, dear. Tell me, Benjamin, when you spread your legs what were you trying to establish?”

Ben flushed. Hamilton was watching. The entire time he was cataloging his every whim, pouring it into a telling report. Washington’s fingers tapped the desk impatiently.

“I was trying to establish contact, sir.”

“Regarding?”

“My...nakedness, sir”

Ben couldn't help but notice the wry smile gracing Washington. His eyes held that hunger Ben had been wishing for all night, and his knees wobbled thinking of all the things he might do to earn more of it.

“Your desires have not been ignored, dear Benjamin.” Washington said, lifting out of his chair to meet him. “If it's attention you crave, I can give it to you---if only you show me how much you enjoy it” A light brush against his hip almost sends Ben to the floor. He needs to confirm what he just heard.

“Sir, you want me to…”

“ _Show me_.”

His words are slow and deliberate, but Ben gets the message. As much as he wants Washington’s hands on him, tearing at him--- this is much more intoxicating. Working for that hungry stare, unable to be touched until he shows just how much he longs for his attention.

Washington returns to his chair, angling it towards the bed. His own private show. Ben lowers himself onto the mattress, hands moving to slowly stroke his cock. He lets his legs fall apart, head tilt back, picking up the pace as he drinks in Washington’s lust clouded stare.

“Benjamin, you look _marvelous_.”

Pleasure radiates through him, setting his lungs on fire as he relives the mounting anticipation of the evening. Raising his head briefly, Ben sees his work has done its job: a hand tucked down the front of Washington’s breeches, his own breath heavy as he kneads himself. It's too much to take in. He’d been on edge for so long, that the sight of Washington’s pleasure sends him over the edge, coming in ropes on his chest.

He doesn't stop there. Willed by some indescribable force, Ben bridges the gap between them, nimbly unfastening Washington’s breeches.  
A low throaty moan escapes Washington as Ben eagerly takes him into his mouth.

“ _Filthy boy_ ”

The gentle scolding only goads Ben on. He was meant to serve unapologetically, a trait Washington admired greatly. It had drove him naked through camp to his tent, and down on his knees without orders. All for a little _attention_. Ben ran his tongue over the head before taking him all in, nose touching the base. Washington bucked his hips, delighted and enrapt by his performance.

“Oh, _Benjamin_ \---”

He finished with a low grunt, Ben moaning around him. Ben cleaned up happily, committing Washington’s pleasure flushed face to memory. Soothing hands brushed across his cheekbones, and wiped away the mess from his chin.

“You were splendid. Simply divine, Benjamin.”

Ben’s eyes eyes fluttered close, warmth enveloping him. It was better than even the hottest bath. Helping hands lifted him off his knees, and back onto the bed, where he was scrubbed down again. Ben sighed as the cloth was swiped over his stomach, erasing the signs of his release.

“Are all my desires really that transparent?” He whispered. Washington chuckled.

“Yes, my dear boy. All of ours are. We can see right through them.”

Ben let the radiating warmth envelope him, melting one final time for the night- happy that he had been seen.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> More benwash stuff can be found on my tumblr @grumblebee-trilogy 
> 
> Feedback is always appreciated! Let me know you had fun.


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